Okay, So You Enlighten Me
by ColorM
Summary: "It's okay. You enlighten me, I enlighten you." / Or, two artists inspire each other in strange passings. Ally x Dez.


**AN:**

I'm not even going to try and excuse myself. I just couldn't resist.

* * *

**Okay, So You Enlighten Me**

She was seated quietly at the piano, in the music room, for an hour or so.

There were no ideas in her head — meaning they were all really terrible — and she was close to exploding from writer's block. These moments were pretty common, especially since a lot of the great ideas were being drained out of her continually with all these songs she had to write. However, she was in forced thought, believing that something may come.

_One, two, three..._

Nothing came. She puffed in exhaustion and stared elsewhere from the keys beneath her fingers.

Immediately, her eyes caught a piece of paper on the wooden floor. Between the mess of crayons she hadn't realized were there, it was planted almost accidentally, like a huge diamond in the rough.

Ally stood quickly, grabbed the thin white page between her small hands, and stared at the odd frame. It was a little poorly proportioned and a terribly drawn image, but it looked to be a drawing of someone. The rough edges of a pencil and messy fill-ins of offset colors revealed the owner's terrible, but honorable attempt to draw.

She wondered who it was, in the image, and the artist of the caricature.

However, once she looked to the corner of the page, the tiny letters. She realized the familiar signature — Dez.

Her mouth immediately went agape, and her heart melted. His attempt to draw was beyond adorable and the strain in the edges, pencil, reveals how hard he actually tried. Ally felt a little moved, just a little, like a small leakage in the ceiling, y'know.

She never realized how much the picture meant to her until the writer's block wore off and she had something to write.

Him, the picture, the gesture, the work — she never even knew who it was for — had given her nameless things to write about. She already had enough lyrics to last for the past hour that she's been in thought, well maybe not that much, but certainly a lot.

Quickly, she placed the image on the piano and set off to write songs that never would have hit her without it, or without him.

Dez was a whole lot of things — but inspirational, who knew?

* * *

He was drawing in the music room.

His imagination was worn out.

There were not a lot of colors to work with and not a lot of people to even replicate, in his head, onto the paper. Therefore, he was having a hard time gathering his art. It was much like a writer's block, very much like it, but for drawing and something much more complex, y'know.

He taped his chin softly, like if it were in rhythm to an old song. There were no ideas, no people to draw, no colors to choose, in his head.

The only reason he was so buoyed into taking upon the art of drawing though, was because he wanted to develop his many skills in the vast field of art. Drawing, as minuscule to him as it was, was one of them. He had already mastered singing, musical instruments, acting, writing, theatrics, and the latter. However, drawing was a very essential one.

Kicking his legs in the air, Dez thought for a long while on his image. Nothing was coming. Nothing was good enough.

He, eventually, took his interests upon something other than his blank page settled with distinct crayons. He took his interests, his attention and ever looking eyes, to the piano, right up against the wall.

What could he even do with a piano? It wasn't amazing to garner nor draw, but if he had to...Ally wouldn't mind.

His eyes popped open. _Ally_!

He could draw Ally!

It didn't take long for his body to vibrate into action and spill the imagination onto the thin paper. Red, yellow, blue, orange — colors and structures — spread like wet ink on the nimble fibers. He almost forgot that his hand was only human, and it's strength was not foreign to him, yet the pain that seeped through was quick.

He decided, knowing that he could always break his hand if he colored too much, to come and finish the drawing later.

However, he never intended on Ally finding it.

* * *

"Ally," he began, captured by the paper on the piano, "what — you weren't supposed to see that."

She smiled back, almost nervously. The probable embarrassment, of having done what he didn't want her to, set into her expression. She hadn't meant to be so enlightened by the picture, it just happened.

"Oh," she said, flustered, "you weren't supposed to see _this_ either."

Immediately, he leaned on a foot and squeezed his eyes to capture what she was talking about. The tiny notes, words, and lines of what appeared to be a song flashed to his eyes like a sudden reverie splotched onto paper, but full of forgotten and brilliant ideas.

He smiled. "Oh."

"It's — it's not what it looks like, okay?" She rushed to her defense, grasping at ways to save herself. "I know it's a little weird, but it helped me write a song and three other songs. I had a writer's block, so, uh, thank you."

Dez didn't reply, taking her word genuinely. He simply stretched a grin from ear to ear, feeling not even slightly weirded out that he inspired her, and fetched her a look that demonstrated a different, distinct expression.

"It's okay. You enlighten me, I enlighten you," he grinned gingerly.

Because if anything, he had also stolen her face for his drawing — copyright was no longer existent, if two equaled two, get it? — which if you analyze, came out really well.

"Great," she returned, with a grin that matched Dez' exactly. _Who'd a known they'd inspire each other?_


End file.
